


A Warm Autumn Wind

by AlienBro



Series: seasons change (but people don’t) by fall out boy [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: (not aiden. the other one), Graphic Description of Injury, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Referenced canonical character death, The Witcher 3 Spoilers, kaer morhen's totally real hotsprings, mentioned Geralt/Kiera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlienBro/pseuds/AlienBro
Summary: The Witchers arrive to winter at Kaer Morhen. Ciri and Geralt find a stranger in the woods, who claims he's searching for the keep.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Series: seasons change (but people don’t) by fall out boy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929622
Comments: 9
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This part is divided into 2 chapters, cause it got a little out of hand while I was writing it. Next chapter will be up when i finish editing it, which will be in the next week or so. 
> 
> you probably should read the first two parts for context. theyre both only around 1000 words, so theyre a quick read. 
> 
> Spoilers for The Witcher 3. Like, all of it. if you just finished Follow The Thread and then immediately hopped on over to ao3, maybe finish the game before you read this. 
> 
> thanks  sidewalk_chalkk for editing, again.

That year, the winter season at Kaer Morhen began early and mournfully.

Eskel arrived first, still in autumn, a good month before the snow would set in and render even the largest of paths non traversable. Without Vesemir to get the keep ready come winter, dust the cobwebs from the halls and chase off any unwanted pests who’d moved in, Eskel figured it’d be best to arrive early to do the old wolf’s former job. It seemed Geralt had had a similar idea, since he and Ciri arrived only a few days after Eskel did. The three of them set about doing Vesemir’s former job, fixing up the keep for the winter and building up food stocks to keep them all alive until spring time.

Lambert arrived earlier than usual, although his early arrival was only about two weeks before the paths would be snowed over and winter would truly begin. The nights were already getting cold, and anyone who wasn’t a Witcher would be hard pressed to travel to the keep without freezing to death.

The four of them sat together on the eve of Lambert’s arrival, uncomfortable in the knowledge that no one else would be knocking on the keep’s door this winter. They drank and recounted tales of the summer months after returning to the path, told stories of monsters and men alike.

It was after Ciri finished a tale involving a beautiful woman she’d saved from a siren nest that Eskel spoke up with the first non contract related conversation of the evening.

“So, Lambert, I wasn’t sure you were going to show this year. Thought you’d be cozied away with your new sorceress.”

“Kiera isn’t my sorceress, whatever the fuck that means.” Lambert growled into his drink.

“Really? But you two rode off into the sunset together and everything.” Eskel continued, leaning a across the table.

Lambert leaned forward as well, teeth bared. “Yeah and nothing fucking happened. We’re friends, is all. She wanted a bit of an escort across the war-ravaged hell-scape of Velen so she didn’t get eaten by a fucking necrophage. Nothing about it other than that.”

“You’re telling me you traveled all the way across Velen with her and didn’t once-“

“Just because you’ll fuck anything that moves doesn’t mean the rest of us will.” Geralt cut Eskel off, recognizing the anger in Lambert’s eyes to be one born of hurt and not frustration.

“Hey! I don’t-“

“You fucked a succubus.” Geralt deadpanned, making Ciri snort into her drink with barely contained laughter.

“She was a very considerate lover.” Eskel grumbled, reaching for the empty bottle. “We’re out of white gull. Imma go get more.”

Ciri steppes over the bench, following behind him. “I’ll go with him, make sure he doesn’t get lost.”

Geralt nodded his thanks at his ever perceptive daughter as she herded Eskel towards the kitchen.

“You alright?” He asked, voice lowered.

Lambert glanced up at him, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

“I’m fine, Geralt. I’m a Witcher, not some faint fucking noblewoman who’s tragically lost her betrothed.”

Geralt nodded, reaching out to awkwardly pat Lambert’s outstretched arm.

“If you need to talk, I-“

Lambert snatched his arm back.

“I fucking miss him, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear Geralt? Aiden was the love of my life and I miss him so bad it hurts and all the beautiful sorceresses in the world couldn’t make it better.” Lambert slammed him nearly empty mug on the table, splashing the remaining liquor out of it. “I’m going to bed. Don’t fucking follow me.”

He stormed out of the hall, pushing past Eskel who swayed drunkenly into the wall.

Geralt stood up, abandoning his half finished drink. “I’m done. We should go hunting tomorrow, fill up our food stocks.”

Ciri, emerging from the kitchens behind Eskel, nodded. “I’ll join you, if you don’t mind.”

Geralt nodded, then headed off towards the stairs to their rooms, as quiet as he could so as not to disturb Lambert.

His room was silent when Geralt passed, and the elder Witcher didn’t stop to listen at the door.

***

The next morning he and Ciri headed out at dawn, after a quick but filling breakfast. Lambert was nowhere to be seen, but Eskel wandered down shortly before they set off. He declined their offer to join them, although reluctantly, saying he wasn’t super sure what he’d done last night, but he knew he likely owed Lambert an apology.

Armed with their hunting crossbows, Geralt and Ciri left the keep.

They headed out along the lake, planning on hunting once they reached its far shore. The paths of Kaer Morhen were not as well travelled as they once were, but larger game still tended to avoid them due to centuries of Witcher activity, and continuing dissuasion by Lambert’s noisy fishing activities. Further along, past the lake and the ruins on its shores, the woods grew thicker and larger game grew more plentiful and less skittish.

Spirits were higher than the night before, for both Ciri and Geralt, and being free of the keep still marked by the memories of the battle was a well needed break. Despite all of their best efforts, Vesemir continued to haunt Kaer Morhen in a way no Witcher could dispel.

They were on foot, having left their horses at the hut and taken Lambert’s boat across the lake. A good few hours away from the edges of the ruins, the forest was as thick as it could get in the mountains.

Ciri was ahead of Geralt, zipping through the trees and laughing as Geralt tried to keep up.

“Dammit Ciri, you’re scaring off all the game!” Geralt called after her.

Ciri laughed, jumping further ahead. Geralt gave chase, moving as quietly as he could with the hope to surprise her.

He was just pressed behind a tree, ready to sneak around and give chase when Ciri appeared in front of him, a worried expression on her face.

“There’s a campsite.” She said quietly. “By the cliffs over that way.”

“An old one? Maybe a hunting camp?” Geralt frowned.

Ciri shook her head. “A new one. Fire’s freshly out. Been maybe two, three hours.”

Geralt nodded and put his crossbow away, drawing his steel sword. Ciri copied the motion as Geralt nodded for her to lead the way. They crept through the underbrush, side by side until they came upon the campsite.

It was small, sequestered under an outcropping in the cliff not big enough to be called a cave. A fire pit sat off to the side, still full of ashes.

Ciri held up a gloved hand, blackened with soot. “It’s still warm near the bottom. Can’t have been long.”

“Hmm.” Geralt responded, looking around. “Look over there. Rabbit bones. Someone’s cooked a meal not too long ago.”

“Must’ve been this morning.” Answered Ciri, “If it was last night they would’ve buried them to not attract any animals.”

Geralt nodded, proud.

“Hang on.” Said Ciri, moving to the edge of the site. “Look at this.”

Just past the tree line, on the edge of the site was the clear heel print of a boot in the soft ground.

“Not too good at covering their tracks.” Geralt commented.

“Or just didn’t expect to be tracked.” Countered Ciri.

“They’ve got a pretty good head start.” Geralt observed, looking around.

“Or not...” he mumbled, dropping into a crouch next to a bush. “There’s blood here. Our camper is wounded.”

Ciri stepped up behind him, searching for a trail.

“Shall we go see how badly?”

The two Witchers headed into the underbrush, moving quietly as they followed the trail through the forest. It wasn’t long before Geralt held out a hand, leaning close to whisper.

“Up ahead, in the clearing. Someone’s moving around.”

“I can hear.” Ciri whispered in return. “I’ll enter the clearing. You sneak around behind them.”

Geralt nodded in response, slipping away between the trees.

Ciri listened for a moment, readying her sword, then moved forward and stepped into the small clearing.

At the other side, sitting in the grass and leaning against a tree, was a man. His trouser leg was rolled up and his boot discarded, revealing a wrap of bloody makeshift bandages that looked to be made of a discarded shirt. He had a blanket draped over his shoulders as a sort makeshift coat, covering most of the lose shirt he wore. His long dark hair was tangled and hanging in front of his face. His head was tilted down, focused on his hands, which methodically tore strips from another shirt. A single sword lay beside him, within easy reach. As Ciri stepped closer, he looked up and swore under his breath, shakily dragging himself to his feet while using his sword as a makeshift crutch.

Ciri went to speak, before she noticed the man’s catlike eyes.

“You’re a Witcher.” She said. “What’re you doing here?”

The Witcher held up his free hand in a gesture of surrender, his other hand still using his sword for support.

“I don’t mean any harm. I just need to find Kaer Morhen. The wolf witchers keep. It’s in these mountains somewhere... just not sure where exactly.”

Ciri narrowed her eyes, sword up and ready to strike, but before she could speak Geralt stepped out of the trees to the left of the stranger.

“What do you want with the inhabitants of Kaer Morhen.”

“Help, mostly.” The stranger said, faintly gesturing to his bandaged leg.

Geralt glances at the wound, which was seeping blood and off-green puss that had soaked through the makeshift bandages. It smelled like poison, strong enough to make Geralt’s nose twitch.

“What school are you from? Your not wearing a medallion.” Ciri pointed out, gesturing with her sword.

“I... the cat school.” He said, quietly. When Geralt moves closer, sword raised, he quickly spoke again.

“I’m not here to kill anyone... I don’t take human contracts. I’m looking for someone, at the keep. I need to-“ he paused, looking down at his leg.

“Oh, fuck.” He muttered, before promptly collapsing forward.

Ciri dropped her sword and lunged forward, managing to catch the stranger before he hit the ground.

“Now what?” She asked.

Geralt shrugged, sheathing his sword and picking the unconscious Witcher up.

“Can’t leave him here. Wound looks, and smells, like it’s poisoned. Witchers are resilient but even we aren’t immune. We’ll take him to Kaer Morhen.”

***

The stranger didn’t stir on the return trip to Kaer Morhen until after Geralt had dropped him onto the ground just inside the walls. He didn’t wake completely, but his eyes were open just enough to drift lazily, completely unfocused.

Geralt dug his potion bag out of Roach’s saddlebags, locating a vial of golden oriole and setting to the side. He peeled away the makeshift bandages, peering at the wound. It wasn’t deep, and would’ve likely healed fine were it not for the poison. The edges of the wound were seeping greenish puss, and the veins near it were discoloured and raised.

“Sweet Meletile.” Ciri breathed, leaning over to get a better look.

“Looks like a venomous insectoid of some sort. Maybe an edrega. Might also be an archspore, but I’ve never seen them grow this far north. It’s a few days old at least.”

Geralt grabbed the potion and poured about half of it on the wound, wincing when it sizzled.

“Fuck, that hurt.” The stranger groaned, seemingly more lucid.

“You’re awake.” Geralt noted, shoving the remainder of the potion into the other Witcher’s hand.

He drank it, remaining slumped against the wall for the time being. Geralt tossed him a swallow potion after a minute or so, eyes narrowed.

“You owe me for both of those.”

“Guess I do.” The stranger muttered.

He paused, looking up at Geralt and Ciri.

“Don’t suppose you could help me up?”

Geralt nodded, stiffly, and held out a hand. He dragged the stranger to his feet, grabbing his upper arm as he did so.

“Let’s head back to the main hall.” He said to Ciri. “And while we walk you can explain what exactly your doing here.”

Before the other Witcher could reply, someone called from the stairs.

“What the fuck is going on down here?”

Lambert appeared around the corner, Eskel following closely behind him. Lambert continued speaking, spinning his sword around as he walked.

“You interrupted our sparring match, Eskel was trying to make up for whatever he-“

Lambert looked down at their little group, and stopped dead in his tracks, sentence trailing off. His sword slipped from grip and clattered to the ground. There was a second of complete silence before he took off running.

He ran straight at them, slamming into the cat witcher so hard he almost knocked them both of their feet.

Geralt let go of the witchers arm in surprise. For a second, he thought that Lambert was going to try and kill the other Witcher, before he noticed that Lambert instead had him trapped in a bone-crushing hug.

“You stupid, senseless motherfucker.” Lambert practically growled into the other Witcher’s shoulder. “I thought you were dead.” 

The cat Witcher returned the embrace immediately, pressing his face into Lambert’s shoulder. “I know.” He replied. “I’m sorry.”

Lambert pulled away, teeth bared.

“Fuck you.” He spat.

The cat Witcher’s face split into a smile wide enough to see his abnormally sharp canines. “I missed you too.”

“What the fuck?” said Eskel.

Lambert reached up and pulled other Witcher down into a kiss, hands tangled in his hair.

“What the fuck?” said Eskel, louder this time.

“I’m with Eskel on this one.” Said Ciri. “Someone care to explain?”

Lambert and the other Witcher separated, although they remained close, their foreheads pressed together.

Geralt opened his mouth to agree with Eskel and Ciri, before the pieces finally snapped into place and he blinked in surprise.

“You’re Aiden, aren’t you?” He asked.

“Yeah.” The Witcher - Aiden - replied.

“I though you were dead.” Geralt stated, brow furrowed in confusion.

“So did I.” Lambert whispered.

“It’s a long story.” Aiden replied, leaning back slightly and wincing as he put weight on his wounded leg again. “I’ll explain, just-“

“Later.” Lambert growled. “You’re hurt, and you look like shit. Geralt can fucking explain, we’re going back inside.”

“Right.” Said Geralt, glancing at Eskel and Ciri.

They watched the two walk towards the keep, Aiden leaning heavily on Lambert for support.

Eskel broke the silence after a minute or two, looking at his companions.

“Where’d you find him?”

Geralt hummed, glancing around.

“You might want to sit down. It’s a long story.”


	2. Chapter 2

The two Witchers were silent for most of the walk to the baths, aside from Aiden’s laboured breathing, which was getting better with every minute that passed.

When they arrived, Lambert practically dropped Aiden on the ground near one of the stone pools, directing him to take off his boots and trousers so that his wound could be looked after. Lambert stalked across the room after that, looking for the stash of medical supplies kept down here to treat any training injuries. He kept one eye on Aiden as the cat Witcher undressed fully and got into the pool. He let out a soft sigh of appreciation as he slid into the warm water, resting his head on the edge of the pool and turning to look at Lambert with a glint in his eye.

“Very nice. If I’d have known you wolves had hot springs in your keep I would’ve come years ago.” He called, the tail end of his sentence stretched out as he yawned widely.

Lambert grabbed a bar of soap as he headed back over, pausing only to kick off his boots and roll up his pant legs. He sat down on the edge of the tub, legs dangling in the water on either side of the other Witcher’s shoulders.

Aiden practically purred as Lambert sat down, one hand coming up to curl around Lambert’s ankle in the warm water.

“Aww wolfy,” he murmured, head leaning against Lambert’s thigh. “You spoil me.”

“I don’t spoil you, you rat bastard, I’m cleaning you so the others don’t kick you out for being too grimy.”

Aiden laughed, running his thumb over Lambert’s anklebone.

“I call bullshit. If they’d kick me out for being a little dirty than they’d never have let you past the gates.”

“Can it, or you can wash your own damn hair.” Lambert growled.

Aiden grinned, smug, but refrained from further comment, choosing instead to submerge completely in the bath to wet his hair. When he surfaced, Lambert pulled him close and set about washing his hair.

“You’re purring.” Lambert remarked after a few minutes, leaning forward to wash his soapy hands.

“Mhm.” Aiden sighed, leaning back and washing the suds out of his hair. “Surprised? It’s not like you don’t know what it is.”

“No.”

Aiden laughed again, still purring as he leaned to the side and pressed a kiss on Lambert’s calf. “I missed you.”

“I never thought I’d hear it again.” Lambert admitted quietly, his eyes closed and his head tipped down as if in prayer.

Aiden leaned closer against Lambert’s thigh, his wet hair dripping water on the other man’s trousers.

Lambert cleared his throat after a second of silence, thrusting the soap into Aiden’s hand and standing. “Clean yourself up. We need to bandage your wound.”

Aiden nodded, cleaning himself quickly as Lambert put his boots back on, rifling through the medical supplies he’d grabbed.

Aiden crawled out of the pool after a few minutes, dressing again and lying down on the floor as per Lambert’s request. He leaned back and pillowed his head on the hands, staring up at the ceiling as Lambert sat down by his feet.

Lambert set about bandaging the wound, but not before checking it out for any remnants of poison.

“What did this?” He asked, quietly.

“Endrega.” Aiden murmured sleepily.

Lambert nodded and continued, deeming the poison properly taken care of, he rubbed a bit of salve on the wound and bandaged it with clean linen strips. The wound wasn’t deep, and would likely close up within a day, but Aiden didn’t protest as Lambert cleaned and bandaged it as if it were life threatening.

Lambert looked around, taking stock. Aiden had only been wearing one shoe when he’d arrived, hopefully Geralt had just removed it to clean his wound. Lambert had no idea where he’d find a new pair of boots in the keep should Aiden need them, short of leaning how to make them with the leather scraps they kept around to repair armour.

Lambert leaned back on his heels, starting to speak when Aiden interrupted with a soft snore. Lambert looked down, finding that he had indeed fallen asleep on the stone floor.

Smiling to himself, Lambert leaned down and picked the other Witcher up off the ground, a little surprised at how light he was. Aiden sniffled a bit as he was picked up, but otherwise he remained asleep. Lambert headed for the door, not caring much for the bit of mess he’d left behind. The other shouldn’t be in the keep just yet, and they shouldn’t catch them if Lambert headed straight to his room.

Indeed, the other three witchers here outside still, listening intently to Geralt’s explanations, and no one interrupted as Lambert carried the sleeping Witcher up to his room and deposited his on the bed. He tugged Aiden out of his clothes and shrugged his own off afterwards, dropping them both in a heap on the floor before crawling into bed. He pulled the covers over both of them, lying on his side and propping himself up on one arm, his other hand resting on Aiden’s chest, feeling the slow steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

***

Aiden woke up early in the evening, blinking awake as the bed dipped from Lambert settling back in.

“Figures you sleep through me starting a fire but not a little dip in the mattress.” Lambert muttered, voice low to not disturb the relative peace.

“Mm. I like avoiding any work.” Aiden said, reaching up to caress Lambert’s cheek. “What time is it?”

“Evening. You slept through dinner.”

“Damn. I haven’t eaten since this morning.” Aiden replied, noticing just how hungry he was.

“Yeah I thought so. I got you this.” Lambert reached over to the bedside table and passed Aiden a bowl of stew and some bread.

Aiden grinned. “This is why I keep you around.”

Lambert laughed a little, leaning back against the headboard as Aiden finished his meal.

When Aiden was done. Lambert gestured to another empty bowl sitting on the floor.

“Eskel brought it up. Didn’t think I’d be willing to leave the room after... you know.”

Aiden nodded, scooting closer so he sat beside Lambert, curling one arm around his waist and effecting tipping him over so he was leaning on Aiden’s shoulder.

“What happened? I thought... when you didn’t show up to meet me...”

“Karadin and his gang went after me. Just like you said they would-“

“Told you so.” Lambert interrupted.

“Yeah, you did. And you were right, they did try to kill me. Sliced me up and left me for dead in the ditch. I passed out before I could get to my bag, thought for sure I was going to die of blood loss, but I didn’t. I woke up maybe a day or two after. Someone stole all of my stuff while I was out, probably though I was dead. Bastard took everything but my silver sword and the clothes off my back.”

Aiden paused, gesturing to the long scar that stretched from just below his collarbone to his hip.

“I thought I was fucked for sure. No money, potions, not even my horse. But a band of elves happened across me, saved my life. Nearly killed me on sight, at first, but-“

Lambert reached up and pinched the pointed tip of Aiden’s ear. “The half-elven thing cancelled out the Witcher thing.”

Aiden laughed, batting Lambert’s hand away. “You could put it that way. Anyways, they gave me medical supplies and let me stay at their camp for a while. I had to lay low, I didn’t want word getting back to Karadin that I’d lived. I tried to send word to you, but I guess you’d already left our meeting place.”

Lambert nodded quietly, picking at the quilt draped over their laps.

“When you were late I tracked down the contract giver. He said you hadn’t come back, that Karadin had killed you. I couldn’t stay there anymore.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t leave until I got word that Karadin was dead. Every member of his gang ruthlessly hunted down and slaughtered by a white haired assassin.”

“That’s a dramatization. Geralt only helped a little, I did most of the damn work.” Lambert snorted.

“Mm. It was a bard I got the news from.” Aiden mused.

“After that I went looking for you. I searched all summer and a good part of fall, but I could find any trace of you. No contracts, terrified townspeople, offended aldermen... nothing.”

“I was here, at Kaer Morhen, for most of the summer. We had to come back, it’s a long story, involves the wild hunt, ask Ciri or Geralt they’ll explain better. After I left again I was escorting a friend south across Velen.” Lambert explained.

Aiden shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“Just missed you then. Didn’t think you would head south what with the war and all.”

“I didn’t really want to, but Kiera asked me to go with her. Don’t know why she didn’t just portal. Guess she was lonely... and so was I.”

“I’ve been gone for two seasons and you befriended a sorceress?”

Lambert turned to look at Aiden with a grin, teeth bared. “I live an exciting life. Keira’s great, actually. She’s fun to talk to, we got along well after she stopped trying to sleep with me to see where I stacked up next to Geralt.”

“She might’ve just liked you.” Aiden added, shaking his head fondly.

“She said to me, in these words exactly: I’m curious if Geralt is better or worse than the rest of you.” Lambert deadpanned, one eyebrow raised.

“So your sorceress friend fucked Geralt?”

“Who hasn’t, these days?” Lambert grumbled, shaking his head in exasperation. “Anyways, after that I headed back to Kaer Morhen. With the old man gone there might be maintenance stuff to do.”

“I was wondering where Vesemir was. Thought he’d be the first to greet me at the door, sword in hand.” Aiden said, waving an imaginary sword with his free hand.

“He’s dead. The Wild Hunt killed him.”

“Oh. I-“

“Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t the first death that I’ve dealt with and it won’t be the last.” Lambert snapped, not meeting his eyes.

“I should’ve been there, with you.” Aiden finished quietly.

“Yeah, you should’ve.” Lambert looked away, eyes drifting over the room. “Whatever. How’s you get up here, anyways?”

“I knew that I’d find you here. And if not you, then maybe another wolf that could tell me your whereabouts at least. I didn’t know where the keep was exactly, just the closest village to the trails. I... guessed at where they might be, and started walking. Turns out game trails and Witcher trails look pretty fucking similar when you get down to it.”

“And that?” Lambert asked, gesturing to Aiden’s leg.

“Right, that. I ran into a couple of endregas in the woods. One of the bastards nicked me, and I didn’t have any potions. I hoped that the poison wouldn’t set in, but it did. Geralt and that woman found me just in time, really.”

“Ciri. The young woman is Ciri. She’s Geralt’s child surprise.” Lambert interjected.

“Thought only the cat school trained female Witchers.”

“And you’re right. Ciri isn’t technically a Witcher — no mutagens — but she is one of us.”

Lambert trailed off, leaning back and letting his eyes close halfway. They say for a moment, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the sound of wind buffeting the window shutters.

“It killed me, you being gone. It hurt so fucking bad I can’t even begin to describe...” Lambert brought a hand up to his face, dragging it across his jaw as he tried to explain. “No one knew. It was like you didn’t even exist. I told Geralt that you were my friend, I couldn’t tell him any more than that. The bastard fucking... found your medallion and brought it back to me. I couldn’t... I just had to hold it. Like it wasn’t fucking killing me with proof that I lost everything I ever got to choose in this godsforsaken life.”

Lambert jolted to the side, leaning down and grabbing his discarded belt off the floor. He dropped it on the bed and covered his face with both hands, curling forward.

Aiden reached forward, cautiously, and unwound the medallion from where it was wrapped around the belt. He held it in his hand, gently.

“Lambert. I’m so sorry. I tried-“

“You fucking bastard.” Lambert snarled, one hand sliding up to grab a fistful of his hair and the other dropping down to clutch at the blankets so hard Aiden could hear it tear. “You left me alone. You fucking left me all alone to- to-“

Aiden lunged forward before Lambert could finish his sentence, dragging him forward and wrapping his arms around him.

“Let go of me.” Lambert snarled, struggling in Aiden’s arms.

“No.” Aiden whispered, rocking back and forth gently. “I know you, Lambert. I know you better than I’ve ever known anyone. I know you’ve just been keeping this all inside and it’s gonna kill you, darling. It’s gonna kill you if you let it.”

“You left me.” Lambert whispered, head tucked into Aiden’s shoulder.

“I know. And I’ll regret it for the rest of time, but you gotta let it go, Lambert. Let the feelings out or they’ll eat you alive, I know they will.  
I swear, I’ll never leave you again.”

Lambert stopped struggling, staying still for a moment before he shuddered, violently. A chocked off sob broke through, then another. He brought his arms up around Aiden and held on as tight as he could as he sobbed into Aiden’s shoulder.

“You can’t promise that. That you’ll never leave me again.” He choked out between breaths, still shaking in his lover’s arms.

“I know. We’re Witchers, nothing’s promised to us but death. But you have to promise that if, gods forbid, I die before you, you’ve gotta let yourself feel it. I won’t have you follow me into an early grave.” Aiden whispered, still holding Lambert close.

They stayed there for an undetermined amount of time, waiting until Lambert stopped crying and raised his head slightly from where it had been tucked into Aiden’s neck.

“Didn’t think I could still do that.” He murmured, voice strained. “Crying, I mean. I haven’t... in decades, I think. Not since the trials.”

Aiden laughed, a little wetly. “No wonder you’re so damn angsty all the time. You can’t keep burying shit, Lambert. It’ll come back to bite you.”

Lambert huffed, leaning back so he could look Aiden in the eyes. Aiden grinned in response, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on each of Lambert’s cheeks. He leaned back again, and held out his hands, presenting Lambert with the medallion.

“Put it on?” He asked.

Lambert nodded, taking the medallion and cradling it gently in his hands. He lifted it up and slid the chain over Aiden’s head, careful not the catch on his ears.

When he was done, he leaned back, one hand resting on Aiden’s chest next to the medallion.

“Can you forgive me?” Aiden asked, quietly.

“Yeah.” Said Lambert. “I think I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, this is done for now. There might be a fourth part, but its barely started and i don't know if i'll finish it. It doesn't have much plot, its just backstory and romantic fluff i guess. Maybe if people want it I'll finish it up and post it. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
